


Looking For Definition

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-03
Updated: 2004-01-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7094572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 3 of "The Definition Series." When you love someone, you're willing to go the distance. Even if the path leads into Hell. And even if you risk leading others after you. After all, pain is temporary. Quitting lasts forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking For Definition

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

Author's Note: The third in the series. I brought Andrew in a little to remind you guys that he works at Wolfram and Hart too in this particular AU. But there's not much of him and there's not much of Gunn. This series doesn’t really focus on them, but they will be used in a later installment. Hopefully this is better than the last one, which was basically the boring explanation ficlet. Let me know what you think!

***

Her gaze flickered up frequently to the door of the arsenal. She grabbed another crossbow and bundled it into a bag, checking the reinforced windows that looked into the room. She looked down at what she had collected so far and nibbled her lip. Perhaps she ought to swap that long stake for an axe? She hesitated, the stake in one hand, the axe in the other. With a sigh, she dropped both into the bag, zipped it up and ducked out of the room, yanking the door shut hard to make sure it locked.

She glanced around, realising that it made her look more suspicious, but somehow not caring. She stepped into the elevator, not holding it for the lawyer that stumbled toward the closing doors with arms full of paperwork.

Dawn had been looking for three weeks. Three weeks of neglecting her work in favour of research on portals. And the day before yesterday, she had actually found the incantation. She remembered translating the final line and just staring at it. 

All the books she needed that she had ordered specially, from all continents and various other dimensions. All of it had led to this. 

In half an hour, she would be gone, as cliched as that sounds, leaving only a brief note on her desk for the others to find.

She stepped out of the elevator and in a few strides was outside her office, she went in and closed the door behind her, dropping the bag of weaponry on the couch. She grabbed the book she needed with outgoing incantations, placed it beside the bag on the couch, and picked up another bag from under her desk. 

She went into the little bathroom in her office and changed. Replacing her silk blouse, fitted skirt, pointed shoes and expensive stockings with heavy jeans that weren't too tight for fighting, a loose sweater and battered sneakers. The elegant hairstyle was pulled down and pulled back into a loose ponytail. She scrubbed the make up from her face and patted it dry. 

When she looked up into the mirror, she was surprised at how young she looked. 

Dawn was twenty-three and for a moment, she was seventeen again, in the summer after the destruction of Sunnydale, bringing Wesley a cup of tea before curling up on the couch in his office to listen to countless tales of myths and legends. 

Occasionally, she would think there was something in his gaze that wasn’t just friendly and grateful for her help in the office. Sometimes, when she lay in her room in the hotel Angel had kept on for a little while, she thought about that look. And sometimes, just sometimes, she would allow herself to name it. To call it lust, or want, or need. 

And just occasionally, love.

Deep down, that was the real reason Dawn wanted to come to UCLA. She had told her sister that she wanted to go there because she wanted her independence, because she had lived in the city for years. And because she had been offered a job at Wolfram and Hart that meant Buffy wouldn't have to give up her hard earned wages. 

But really, secretly, it was Wesley that Dawn longed to see. And even now, she remembered that burst of joy when, two weeks after she started at UCLA, she went to start her part time job at Wolfram and Hart and discovered that she would be working with Wesley.

It was then that she thought perhaps his looks weren't all in her imagination, even if they had been last summer, but it wasn’t until her twenty-first birthday that he finally kissed her. 

Their relationship was kept secret, until after she quit college because "Buffy, what's the point? I've decided I want to stay at Wolfram and Hart and great as UCLA is, it doesn’t offer Summerian or Ga-Shundi." Spike walked in on them and for some reason, was happy about it and it was around Wolfram and Hart in days, until Angel thought Buffy ought to know. 

Dawn blinked, the spell broken and she was just a twenty-three year old woman, tumbled out of her adult clothes and make-up, the break-up of her two-and-a-half year love affair stealing the colour from her cheeks and the sparkle from her eyes. 

She shrugged her shoulders back and picked up her clothes, laying them over the couch. She unzipped the leather bag of weaponry and gently placed the book of incantations into it. She picked it up, easing it onto her shoulders before pushing the folded note addressed to Spike into the middle of her desk. She turned the lights off and closed the door of her office behind her.

Then, she strode down the corridor to the elevator, ignoring the surprised frowns of other associates. She rode the elevator down to the car park and climbed into Wesley's jeep. 

With a hard gulp, she started the car and headed toward the one place where she knew instinctively the portal would open.

The place where Wesley had died.

*** 

"So, what are we doing tonight?" Fred asked, a giggle edging into her voice as she met Spike's eyes.

"Dunno, love, I thought I'd get you a taco and a good movie," he replied, only looking up briefly from a bubbling test tube of bright blue liquid.

"But we did that last Friday night," she protested, watching as Spike switched his attention from the blue liquid to a bundle of dried herbs marinating in a dull red liquid.

"'S'why I'm dating you, in't it?" he said, finally giving her his full attention with a broad smile.

"You callin' me a cheap date?" she accused, poking a slender finger into his chest.

"That’s the best kind," he told her sincerely, sliding his arms around her waist, "'cause there's nothing to hide behind. None of that candlelit rubbish. You and me aren't built for that."

"And what are we built for?" she asked, trying to keep the teasing smile from his face.

"Do I have to spell it out for ya, Slim?" he asked, thumbs moving gentle circles on her waist. 

"Mmmm," she said, pulling away as she reached for the goggles on a nearby bench. She slipped them on and turned away from him, checking the temperature of one of her experiments.

"'Mmmm'?" Spike repeated, eyebrow raised, "what's that mean, Fred?"

"That I don’t believe you," she replied mildly.

"Don’t…? What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"That I don’t believe you," she rolled her eyes, "that we always get to here, this point, but then it all cools off and we're back to square one again," she looked up again, blinking at him from behind her goggles, "is it me you really want, Spike?"

"It's not that simple, Fred," he sighed, sinking into a chair and dropping his head into his hands, "I like you, you're a great girl. Gorgeous, funny, understanding. All of the above. But… I made a promise to a lady," he shrugged, looking up at her, "years ago, to take care of -"

"Dawn," Fred finished in a whisper; "you're still worried about her."

"Yeah. I can't seem to think about anything else except how to take care of her."

"Then we'd better go take care of her then," Fred said gently, extending her hand.

Spike took it, with a pleasantly surprised smile. He allowed her to guide him out of her laboratory and past Angel's office towards Dawn's.

Angel watched them go past and sighed. He knew where they were going. He stared down at the number neatly written on a card in his Rolodex. He reached for the phone got his finger halfway to the first number when he thrust it away from him.

"Twelve," he muttered, rolling his eyes at the number of times he had attempted this. 

He shifted uncomfortably, then flexed his fingers before dragging his phone in front of him. He dialled the number before could change his mind and balled his free hand into a fist as he waited.

"Hello?"

"Er, yeah, hi. Is Buffy Summers there?" he asked.

"Uh, sure, hang on. Hey, BUFFY!"

He winced as the teenage Slayer's shriek rang down the phone and he only opened his eyes again when Buffy came to the phone.

"Hi, Buffy Summers here."

"Hi, Buffy. It's me," he paused, before clarifying with, "Angel."

"Angel," she repeated, then her voice started into worry, "is it Dawn? Is she all right? Nothing's happened, has it?"

"No, no. Nothing's happened. It's just… Lately, I've been talking to Spike. He doesn’t seem to think she's coping so well. And… I think he's right. She's behaving normally, just…"

"Not like Dawn," Buffy finished quietly, "I'm on my way."

Angel's fist open and he pressed it flat into the arm of his chair, trying to keep his voice calm and distant.

"No, I didn’t mean that you should come all that way. I just thought you could call her, give her some… sisterly advice."

"Angel," Buffy said firmly, "she's my sister. I'm on. My. Way."

"Oh, right," he nodded, fighting the smile that threatened to break out on my face.

"But don’t tell her, she'll freak," Buffy said, "and - wait a minute - Bonnie, will you put that battle axe down! It's not a toy; it's an antique! Sorry, I was just going to ask you to keep an eye on her. I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll leave in a half an hour."

"Right. Well, I see you then… then."

"Yeah," he heard the slight smile in her voice and couldn’t resist a small smile himself, "goodbye, Angel."

"Bye, Buffy."

***

"She's not in there," Andrew said dully, pushing away from the wall he leaned against as Fred and Spike approached.

"She might be in the bathroom," Fred said, sliding her card through the automatic lock and opening the door.

She turned the light on and looked around.

"What's her clothes doing here?" Spike asked, pointing to where her clothes lay forgotten on the couch.

"Spike…" Spike turned looked over at Fred, then his gaze dropped to the note in her hand, "it's got your name on it," she said.

He took it from her, frowning as he read it. Andrew and Fred exchanged looks, both feeling foreboding crawl up their backs.

The note contained a quick explanation, saying they probably wouldn’t see her for a while. Something about a portal, but not which goddamn portal or for what goddamn reason. Oh, and if she wasn’t back in three days, there was a list of books printed neatly that the note said would help them find her. 

But apparently, they shouldn’t bother.

He looked up, screwed the note into a tight ball with barely suppressed anger and looked up to see Fred skimming through a pile of files on Dawn's desk.

"She's gone!" he shouted, throwing the note to the floor, "through some fucking portal for no fucking reason."

"Spike," Fred cut in.

"Gone?" Andrew echoed, voice rising in panic, "gone where? Why would she go anywhere?"

"Well, obviously there's a reason, but Miss Independent figures we're not worth telling -"

"Spike," Fred said again, voice shaky.

"What?" he asked, voice snappish as he strode toward her, followed by Andrew, and peered over her shoulder at the small scrap of paper torn from a notebook resting on a pile of untidy translations. There were only a few simple words scrawled hastily in Dawn's handwriting.

Angel

Buffy

Fred

Buffy came through the portal

Angel and Fred didn’t because THEY WERE STILL ALIVE

"Oh no," Spike muttered, "she's gone for Wesley. That's the portal she meant," he snatched the note up from the floor and smoothed it out on the desk, "Fred, find these books she's got listed here. She says that’s how we can find her again, but we shouldn’t bother. Stupid bint. Are they her notes? Look through them, Andrew, find something. Anything."

"Where are you going?" she called after him as he went to leave the office.

"Angel," he replied shortly.

***

"Angel," Spike cried, running into his office, "c'mon, we've gotta go."

"What's wrong, Spike?" Angel asked.

"It's Dawn. She thinks there's a chance that Wesley might still be alive because you and Fred went through a portal and didn’t come out because they were still alive -"

"Spike, breathe," Angel cut in.

"Angel, I don’t fucking breathe!" he roared, "now you listen to me. Dawn. Has. Gone. Dawn has gone through a portal. To save Wesley. Who is in a Hell dimension. Who is dead. Who she knows is dead. But who she has still gone to save. We have to stop her. Are we getting the picture?"  
Angel stood up and grabbed his coat.

"I'm driving," he said shortly.

"And driving where, hot shot?" Spike demanded.

"Where would you open a portal that was last opened only seven blocks from this very building?"

"Oh."

***

"There she is!" Spike shouted, opening the door of the car as Angel swerved the car with a screech. Spike launched himself out of the car and hit the ground running. Dawn stood in the centre of four candles, one at each compass point.

"Dawn!" Angel called, leaping from the car and racing after Spike.

Dawn glanced back, a stricken look on her face and turned her back to them, chanting vigorously as the air wavered in front of them. 

"Dawn, stop that this minute," Spike ordered.

Angel reached Dawn first, but as he reached for her shoulder, she slashed a dagger decisively down her palm and as blood dripped from her hand, a hole ripped in the air and he staggered back. Dawn glanced back at him and Spike before reaching for her bag of weapons.

"No!" Spike yelled, jumping forward and grabbing hold of her, dragging her back.

"Get off!" she screamed, struggling in his arms, "get off me! Spike! Let me go! Let go of me! You bastard!"

He let go of her abruptly and stared at her.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, "it's just… I need you - both of you - to turn around and walk away. Let me do this."

"No, Dawn," Angel said softly, though loudly enough to be heard over the low roar of the portal, "this is suicide. We can't let you. I've called your sister. She's on her way here right now. What am I gonna tell her when she arrives and you're not here?"

"Tell her I'm doing what she would have done if she had thought there was even the slightest chance you were still alive when she killed you."

"You didn't kill him," Angel said softly.

"But I didn’t try hard enough to stop him, did I?" she replied bitterly, "you're not going to stop me. This is something I have to do."

"No! This is something you can't do!" Spike cried.

"What about Buffy?" she demanded, turning to face the two vampires fully, "when Buffy died, her body came out of the portal. We buried her. You should know, Spike, you spent some time every night for a whole summer there. Sometimes all night. And you, Angel, that grave sent you to some monastery in Sri Lanka for three months. Did it help? Did it? 'Cause if it did, tell me you've got their number, 'cause I sure as hell need it."

"It didn’t," he answered, lowering his gaze from her eyes.

"I knew it," she replied softly, "and what if she hadn't come through that portal. What if we hadn't seen her body? What if someone had said to you that there was a chance - not a big chance though, but still a chance - that she was still alive? Would you have figured that meant there was a bigger chance she was dead and walked away? Or would you have done everything in your power to get to her? That’s what you would've done, isn't it?"

The vampires exchanged glances before looking back at Dawn and nodding.

"Yeah," Spike admitted.

"That's what I'm doing," she explained gently, "if he's still alive, I've got to save him -"

"And if he's not?" Angel asked abruptly.

"If he's not… Then maybe this is the closure I needed. I'm sick of being strong, Angel. I'm so tired of pretending that everything is fine when it isn't. I tried to be strong and it didn’t work. But if by doing this I find out he really is dead, then I guess I'll have to be strong because I'll have no other choice. At the moment, I do have another choice. And this is it. I'm not asking you guys to give me your blessing in this; I'm asking you to understand. You've both loved someone enough to die for them, all I'm asking is that you get I feel the same way."

They exchanged another look before Spike reached for her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Then his hand slipped down and unzipped the bag on her shoulder. Dawn froze, waiting to see what he would do. Without looking away from her, Spike pulled out a short battle-axe that he tossed casually to Angel and then a long stake for himself. 

"Hell's a lonely place," he told her, glancing over her shoulder at the portal as it steadily grew, "and we're not about to let you leave with half the company arsenal."

"What -?"

"We're coming with you," Angel clarified.

She swallowed the desire to argue and nodded decisively, turning to the portal.

"I used my blood to open it," she stated matter-of-factly, "I didn’t need the blood of a Champion because I'm the Key. I'll go through last to close it."

Spike shrugged and stepped through, the portal buckling as he did so. Angel swiftly followed and Dawn watched them both disappear.

She gulped hard and gripped the strap of her bag, pulling out a crossbow.

And then Dawn Summers did what she had been planning to do for three weeks.

She jumped through a portal and exchanged one Hell for another.

 

THE END


End file.
